The Raven's Daughter: Marion's Story
by Miss Ravenwood
Summary: A following of Marion Ravenwood before, during, and after Raiders of the Lost Ark. Describes how she met Indy, how they where separated, and, eventually, how she rasies Mutt on her own. Marion/Indy
1. Nevermore

**Author's note: I do not own Indiana Jones...despite my wishes. **

1937, New York City

Marion Ravenwood gazed out of her apartment window, eyes narrowed, jaw clenched. This was supposed to be a happy moment, her moment. But it was lost.

They had planned for a winter wedding. Nothing extravagant, just a trip down to City Hall with Marcus as a witness, and then a honeymoon in Egypt, where Sallah's family could provide a place to stay—they could visit the lighthouse at Alexandria and take a cruise down the Nile. Their wedding was set for December 17th, the following Saturday.

Snow began to swirl silently against the grey skyline, sticking to the window and melting into a million snowflakes in an instant. There was a couple walking in the snow, oblivious to its chill. Their laughter seemed to echo, even over the roar of traffic. Marion smiled bitterly.

"That could've been us, Jones," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Goddamit, we were so close to happiness, and then you left. You just _left_. Just like you did ten years ago, just like my father did every time he was searching for his pieces of history, just like my...just like everyone else in my damn life."

She clenched her fists so tightly that her nails began to dig into her palms. She would not let herself cry; what was the use? She had always been strong, but now she needed to be stronger than she ever had been before.

_I'm leaving the country, Marion, _the note he left had read. _There's an important dig that needs my attention. Maybe it's for the better—we both know things would've never worked between us. Married life wouldn't have suited either of us. Keep in touch. _

There had been no warnings, no good-byes. She had happened to be at the doctor's office this morning, the morning he decided to leave. Now that she thought about it, he had probably planned it out that way, anyhow. The bastard had certainly fooled her.

"I don't care about a diagnosis, Doc," she remembered saying a few hours earlier, when the doctor returned from examining her blood work.

"The nerves are messing with my head. I just want some drugs to calm my stomach before I tie the knot, you know? I've been under a lot of stress the past year—traveling all over the world. Hell, I haven't even set foot in the U.S. for ten years! So I guess it's all catching up with me, right?"

The doctor gave her an amused smile as he flipped through the paperwork.

"Miss Ravenwood, I would get married as soon as you possibly can."

Marian chuckled, expecting a punch line to his joke.

"Why's that?"

"Because you're going to be a mother. Congratulations."

Although silence engulfed the room, a thousand thoughts erupted like fireworks in Marion's mind; crashing, colliding, conflicting thoughts. She was pregnant. Pregnant! Even the thought of motherhood made her balk and laugh at the same time, picturing herself as a mother was frightening and comical. Honestly, did she look the motherly type? She used to own a tavern, for Christ's sake! She could out-drink anyone, had a filthier mouth than a sailor, smoked pack a day, and didn't give a damn.

Some part of her had always assumed that she would never have kids; most likely because, deep down, she did not want to turn into her own mother. Deborah Ravenwood had abandoned her family when Marion was only five years old. She could remember waking up and finding Abner alone in the kitchen, his head in his hands. After the initial shock and sadness, Abner grew angry. He bought two tickets and he and Marion took a train across the country from Chicago to Los Angeles. He confronted Deborah, a moment which was permanently engraved in Marion's mind.

"It's not fair, Deb," he shouted loudly against a shut door.

Deborah had locked herself into her hotel room when she had seen them and refused to acknowledge either of them.

"She's your daughter!" Abner continued, furious. "I don't care if you hate me or if you want to leave me. But you can't leave _her, _Deborah. You can't abandon your own child."

Marion began to cry, grasping her father's hand, finally realizing that her mother was never coming home at all. After a few more minutes of Abner's yelling, Deborah threw open the door.

"Damn it, stop the racket, Abner," she hissed. "I left you a note, didn't you read it? I was never meant to be anyone's wife. I should've never married you. I never wanted a goddamn kid. I just want to be alone, got it? Both of you, leave me the hell alone!"

Marion cringed as she was brought back to the present moment. That memory was one she never cared to visit. But now…she had no choice. Would she become like Deborah one day? A woman who holds her own priorities over those of a child?

She had left the doctor's office, still unclear…her mind jumbled. Was there really a baby inside her? Hers and Indy's? It seemed unbelievable. That couldn't possibly be happening to _her. _She passed their apartment and walked for more and more blocks, not even feeling the cold sting of the winter wind against her face. She sat on a park bench, watching the heavily bundled children run to and from their parents, playing on the swings. They all looked so happy.

"I don't have to be like my mother," she reasoned, finally. "I don't have to be her."

She glanced down at her hands, pushing away the painful feeling that came with the association of the word "mother", a word she had hated to say aloud for twenty-two years. Instead, she thought of Indy's face—his smile that melted her heart. She thought of his warm hands in hers, and pictured those same hands holding a tiny, beautiful baby. Something that inspired so much love couldn't be completely bad, could it? So, she would give up drinking and smoking for a while. She would try to find a decent job, something her kid could be proud of. But wouldn't that be worth a happy family? Her, Indiana, and a perfect little child.

"God," she breathed, cautiously curling her arms around her middle, "this is crazy! And…and wonderful!"

A huge, mischievous grin spread across her face as she stood quickly.

"What'll Dr. Jones have to say about this?" she laughed.

Full of newfound enthusiasm and exhilaration, she bounded out of the park and down the sidewalk, ignoring the stares of other New Yorkers, bundled against the chill. She knew she looked ridiculous—her long, dark hair streaming behind her, her coat unbuttoned and flapping in the wind, her dress billowing, her feet struggling to run in heels—but she didn't care. She, Marion Ravenwood, was going to marry the love of her life, and she was going to be the mother of their child.

"INDY!" she yelled at the top of her lungs as she flung open the door to their Manhattan apartment. "I've got one hell of a surprise for you!"

She laughed as she wandered around their tiny home. She searched every room, only to find them empty. _That's strange, _she thought, _he said he'd be waiting for me to come home… _

"Jones?" she asked, afraid now.

Having had her share of adventures with Indiana, she knew there always was a possibility of danger where their lives were concerned.

Walking by the kitchen counter caused a piece of paper to flutter to the ground and, immediately, Marion bent to retrieve it. She read the note he left, and suddenly she was that little girl again, abandoned by her mother.

Marion turned away from the window, from the melting snowflakes, and the laughter of the happy couple. He had left her, but she didn't need him.

She was alone, but she was going to be a mother. A goddamn _good _mother, too. And, suddenly, Marion didn't feel quite as alone as the thought of the baby inside her seemed to remind her that, now, she could never be alone. She had a baby. It was _her _baby now. Just hers. And she needed to be strong.

They didn't need Indiana Jones. She would never depend on him, on anyone, anymore.

Crumpling the note in her fist, Marion moved to her desk. Sure, Jones was gone now, but what if he came back again, like last time? What if he showed up, ten years from now, on some other goddamn quest and found her with a ten year old child? There would be too many questions, the child would be confused. No…if Indy ever came back to New York City, she wouldn't be here for him to find. She had to move to the only other place in the United States that she knew, a place she thought she'd never return to—back to where it all began: Chicago.

**A/N I know this chapter was a little angst-y, but it gets better, I promise! Review!**


	2. The Colleague's Lesson

**A/N: I don't own the rights to Indiana Jones, sadly. This chapter takes place ten years before the last one, just in case you didn't read the dates... :)**

1926, Chicago

She sat on the stone wall lining the academic mall of the University of Chicago, her bare feet swinging slightly in the warm air. Her eyes were large and bright, and she had a smile that seemed to stretch for a mile as she flipped through the pages of her book rapidly. She had one of those just-changed faces, like a freshly bloomed flower; a girl who suddenly realized she had become a woman overnight. But she still seemed a little awkward in her light blue dress that billowed about her knees slightly in the breeze, and she hid most of her dark hair, shoving it under a cap. She seemed out of place in the university, bustling with activity, while she just stood still. Marion just _was_.

"Whatcha reading, kid?" the man who had been observing her asked.

He jumped up to sit next to her, taking off his heavy-rimmed glasses and folding them into his shirt pocket with care. Marion didn't even bother looking up from her book.

"_The Sun Also Rises_," she murmured, flipping another page.

"That's a pretty mature book," he said with a smirk.

"I'm a pretty mature person," she snapped, not missing a beat.

"It's about the Great War, isn't it?"

"Well, about what happens after."

"That's a thought. Always thought the action was what mattered; it was one hell of a fight."

He regretted his language, but found that she didn't even bat an eye.

"What, _you _were in the war?"

"That's right, kid."

"Weren't you a little young?"

"Let's just say I was a pretty mature person," he said coolly. "Actually, I was probably your age when I went overseas."

She chuckled and finally closed her book.

"Did you want to say something, mister, or were you _really _interested in what I was reading?"

She him threw an overly sweet, sarcastic smile. Marion lived around the campus long enough to know there were plenty of college men eager for a date, to say the least. The idea always made her laugh. Here she was, a professor's daughter, about to graduate high school. Didn't these fellows have anyone their own age to chase? Still, she attempted to be somewhat civil—unless, of course, the wise-guy crossed the line.  
"Actually, _sweetheart_," he drawled, placing an equal amount of sarcasm on the word, "your father sent me to find you."

"My father?" she asked. "Isn't he still teaching a class?"

"Yeah, I just came from his classroom."

He smiled, like someone who knew a secret.

"I was helping him grade some of his papers. He wanted me to meet you; I'm his new assistant."

"You're the new partner?"

She was stunned. How could Abner think to partner in an expedition when she was so close to graduating?

"Not what you expected, kid?" He gave a cocky grin.

"They're usually not so old," Marion sighed, hiding a smile.

She always enjoyed teasing her father's assistants mostly because it was far too easy to irritate them and because it gave her a small vengeance. She couldn't stop them from coming, but she certainly could make their life annoying as hell.

"I'm only ten years older than you, sweetie," he answered defensively. "Besides, it's not the years, it's the mileage. I've fought in the war, graduated from this university while you were in junior high, got a PhD in linguistics in France, and have been teaching at a university in London. _And _I've met Ernest Hemingway, the author of that book of yours. We were college pals, you could say."

He gave another cocky grin, as if his list of accomplishments would impress her.

"Well, that certainly is an _old_ assistant's résumé," she said, pretending to sound disappointed.

She offered him her hand.

"I'm Marion—"

"I know. Abner was my teacher when I was an undergrad. He always talked about his _little girl_."

Marion sighed and chose to ignore the remark.

"Don't call me sweetie, _professor_," she warned, narrowing her eyes.

He shook her hand—so small and soft!—and grinned. Abner's little girl was feistier than he could have imagined. Was the mild-mannered professor, always consumed by his work, really the father of this sharp-tongued girl? The sunlight caught her eyes, revealing their green glow and he smiled again. She was a pretty little girl, too. Who would've guessed?

"You look like a regular flapper, Marion. Do you listen to much jazz? Or do you only party?"

She laughed.

"I do enjoy Louis Armstrong. That sonofabitch sure can play the trumpet."

She leapt off the wall, landing on the pavement, her dress flying up a bit. _Damn thing_, she thought grumpily. She wore the fashion for propriety's sake at the University, as it's what Abner wanted, but she much preferred when they went on digs and she could wear whatever the hell suited her.

Her father's pupil still sat on the wall, stunned at her language.

"What?" she asked, turning back and shielding her eyes against the sun. "Never heard a woman curse before, professor?"

"Actually…" He began, laughing.

"Mm-hm. I see. Better get used to it. If you're _really_ Abner's new partner—even though you do seem too old—you'll be seeing a lot of me. Or hearing a lot of me, I suppose."

"And your father doesn't mind that?" he asked, sliding off the wall, too. "That you curse, I mean."

"Nah."

She began to walk away pushing more stray ends of her hair under her cap, and swinging her free arm absently.

"It's just me and Abner. He does what he wants, and I do what I want."

"No rules? Must be nice."

"Well, there are a few. I have to finish high school. Look presentable when I'm on campus. Feed Abner's cat. But that's about it."

"That's a lot of freedom, kid. I had to steal that kind of freedom by running away. Careful how you spend it or you might regret it."

"Like you'd know," she smirked. "When you were my age, you were illegally risking your life in the single greatest war the world's ever known. You ran away and never looked back, so don't give me the lecture, professor. My little acts hardly can compare."

"Acts?"  
"You said I look like a flapper."

She liked this element of mystery. Although her newfound beauty was sudden, it was amusing to goad men on, especially her father's partners…to build up their expectations and then yank the carpet from under them. This one had a wonderful smile, anyhow, but his eyes seemed strangely tired. Strangely sad.

She thought about this, lips pursed, for a few minutes before she realized that the professor was following her. _Can't a guy get the hint when the conversation is over?_ She thought moodily. She whirled around.

"Anything else I can help you with, professor?" she snapped.

"I think I can help _you_," he said, with a grin, putting his hands on his hips. "You never got my name, kid."

"I wasn't aware that I wanted it."

He laughed, and she allowed a sheepish smile.

"You sure know how to make a guy feel welcome!" he teased.

"Listen, I'll be seeing enough of you these next few months. I'm guessing you and Abner have some important artifact to find…and I'll be coming along, as usual. There's plenty of time for introductions. The last partnership expedition lasted a whole year!"

She lowered her eyes, refraining from adding how much she hated these expeditions. Every time a new colleague or partner showed up, it meant that her life was going to flip upside down again. The last one had been with another one of Abner's former students—a Brit named Harold Oxley. They went on an expedition to Guatemala, hoping to find some other ancient bit of junk that would somehow put them one step closer to finding a bigger bit of ancient junk. That had been three years ago and although Marion was very glad to have met Oxley (so far, the most bearable of her father's partners), it always seemed that, no matter where they were, just as she was beginning to get used to the place, the culture, and the language, she'd be snatched away and dropped back in Chicago…where she'd have to make friends all over again. Abner would always say, "Marion, you're in school to learn, not to make friends", but what did he know? He was used to a life alone…but had he already forgotten how difficult it was for him in the beginning?

"If I didn't know any better, Marion, it sounds like you don't want to come."

"It's not that…"

"We're going to Jerusalem! Do you have any idea how exciting that'll be? When I was your age I would have given—"

"I'm not like you, okay?" Marion shouted, suddenly overwhelmed. "I'm still getting used to life here…I'm still trying to figure out who I am…and who I'm supposed to be."

"Isn't everyone?" he asked.

Marion looked up, angry, but then she noticed the joking tone in his voice had vanished and his face was serious. He took a step closer to her, and suddenly Marion was afraid at what he had to stay. He studied her face with those sad, tired eyes, and sighed.

"First of all, kid, if you're trying to figure yourself out, you can't be afraid of yourself," he said after a moment, his tone more cheerful than she expected. "For starters, what's a pretty girl like you doing hiding her hair like that?"  
Immediately, her hands flew to her cap, but when she realized she had done so unconsciously, she let her hands fall back to her sides.

"I…I don't know," she stammered. "I guess it's the fashion…"

"Trust me, it never was 'the fashion' to hide a woman's beauty."

Marion blushed, not only at the thought of her being beautiful, but at the thought that she was a _woman_ at all. The word just seemed so strange and foreign, especially to a girl who had been raised by and around men.

"You hide your hair, wear these dresses that hide your figure, because you want to do just that—you want to hide, Marion, 'cause you're just afraid of the idea that you're worth looking at."

"That's ridiculous."

"Oh yeah?" he stepped even closer.

Carefully, quietly, he lifted a hand towards her face, and reached instead for her head. He rested his palm against the base of her head, above the back of her neck, as if he would pull her towards him. Instead, she could feel his fingers grasping her cap.

"Then what's there to be afraid of?" he asked.

With a small smile, he pulled the cap off of her head, letting her long dark hair tumble down around her shoulders. Marion would have been uncomfortable walking around the campus like that to begin with, but now she was one hundred times more uncomfortable. Just who did this man think he was? She snatched her cap from his hands and turned, walking away.

"My name's Indiana Jones!" he called out at her.

She stopped.

"Indiana?"

"That's right. Got a problem with that?"

She couldn't help chuckling a bit and as she did, she felt her uncertainty and insecurities lift away. This wasn't so bad after all—was that what it felt like to be a woman? Was this…_Indiana_, right? Was she worth looking at?

He took long, easy strides to catch up to where she stood, smiling on the sidewalk, feeling the hot concrete through her toes.

"Thank you, Dr. Jones," she allowed finally. "Turns out, wisdom does come with age."

"So it's like that again, huh, kid?" he smiled. "C'mon, let's get back to your dad's place before his class lets out."

He offered Marion his arm, and she went along, laughing at the formality. They walked for a few minutes before Marion frowned, turned to him, and asked:

"So…you really knew Ernest Hemingway?"

Indiana gave her an amused look, but began to tell her the story of his friendship to the now famed author. As he did however, he couldn't help but focus on Marion's eyes; glowing, soft ,and beautiful. _Why do they have to look so much like Deidra's? _he wondered, sadly, as the girl laughed and laughed. He felt a lump rise to his throat but, just before he could become overwhelmed, he looked away for a moment, forced a smile, and continued his story.

That night, while Abner sat at the kitchen table and Marion was coming back inside from feeding the cat on the stoop (where is where she also would sneak a few smokes), he paused in his work.

"Did you meet my new colleague? I hope you didn't upset him too much, honey, because he was one of my favorite students. A little bit of a lazy bum at times…and reckless too, but, boy, is he gifted! Our work in Jerusalem's going to be very promising…very promising!"

He pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and grinned.

"I met him," Marion said, collapsing on a chair next to him, straddling it backwards. "_Indiana _Jones."

"So the boy doesn't care too much for his Christian name. There are worse things. You didn't give him a terrible time, did you Marion? He's a very gifted archeologist…more than I could ever hope to be."

"No, actually," she said, surprised at herself. "He taught me a valuable lesson, as a matter of fact."

"He did? That's splendid? Was it about the Ark of the Covenant? If it is I'll be impressed…I've been trying to get you to study that for—"

"No, Abner!" Marion chuckled. "It was a far simpler lesson."

"What's that, dear?"

"To live without fear."

There was a pause, and Abner looked up from his papers.

"What do _you _have to be afraid of, my dear? Is something on your mind?"

"Nothing, Abner. Nothing really."

Her father shrugs and continued to grade.

"I wish it had been a lesson about the Ark. Now that's a lesson worth learning. Especially since we'll be leaving for Jerusalem soon enough…"

Abner continued on, but Marion lost interest soon enough. She had something more fascinating on her mind…a lesson on fearlessness which she vowed to keep forever and of her new teacher. Her father's old student...a man named Indiana.

**A/N: So, I'm generally going to follow this format--one chapter is ten years ahead of the other, while the other is a flashback of the early Marion/Indy years, and eventually the Raider year(s). Hope you're liking it so far...**


	3. Strong as an Ox

**A/N: Unfortunately, I don't own the rights to Indiana Jones. **

_April 1938, Chicago_

"Dismissing me? Why the hell would you dismiss me?" Marion yelled angrily.

The baffled professor for whom she worked for shrunk back a bit, suddenly afraid of the woman's wrath.

"Here I am, back at this godforsaken university, and I've worked my ass off for you these last four months. I have! And now you're _dismissing me_?"

She paused, catching her breath, and noticed the professor had become very pale. Curious teachers and students, alike, had paused in the hallway to watch a pregnant secretary chastise an esteemed professor and although the situation seemed amusing, it gave Marion reason to worry. She couldn't lose her job; not when she needed money the most! Suddenly, she realized she had gotten so close to the professor, yelling to his face, that her pregnant belly was pressing against his protruding stomach. She backed away immediately.

"Sorry, Professor Larkin," she mumbled, retreating from the hallway and sitting at her desk in his office. "But it's true. I've worked so hard…I can't see why you'd fire me."

Her words were quiet and defeated. She placed a hand at the curve of her stomach, trying to calm the baby that bustled about within, uncomfortable at its mother's distress.

"Y-You're right, Miss Ravenwood," the professor began, nervously. "You've been the best secretary I've had in the twenty years I've been at this fine institution! And since you are dear Abner's daughter, it was such a pleasure to work with you, too."

Marion turned her head, confused.

"Then what are you firing me for?" she asked, hurt. "You know I need the money."

Professor Larkin cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"I'm afraid that's the exact reason."

"What are you talking about?"

Her tone was not a question, but more of a warning.

"Now…please try to understand, Miss Ravenwood…"

She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. He cleared his throat again, eyes darting to the floor.

"It has been brought to my attention that you are, er, unmarried… and—it's not that_ I_ have any problem at all with it—but the University feels that you, being in your condition…that the image of the University might not be, well, upheld…and the University cannot have you as its employee."

He swallowed audibly after his nervous speech. Marion sat, stunned.

"You're telling me you don't employ unmarried mothers?" she demanded.

"That's about right, I'm afraid," he replied meekly. "The deans wanted to cut back on…undesirables. Besides…they're afraid that, well…I'm a bachelor, and you're a young, pretty, unmarried woman. It just looks suspicious."

Marion open and closed her mouth, like a gasping fish, before she closed it again, too angry for mere words. What the hell was she supposed to do now? She was behind rent as it was…

It pained her to think of her child being born into such a terrible life. The Depression made everything scarce—food, clothes, jobs, and even happiness, it seemed. She had nothing prepared for the baby—nothing but a shabby one-room apartment with cracked ceilings and paint peeling off the walls…not exactly the beautiful nursery she envisioned.

"I'm sorry, my dear," Professor Larkin stammered gently. "I really do want to help Abner's daughter…it's just—"

"I'm an undesirable. I tarnish the University's pristine image. I could ruin your wonderful reputation. I get it," she growled.

Getting up, she grabbed her purse and her hat and swept out of the office with as much dignity as she could muster. The professor scrambled after her, offering to give her a few bills, just to pay the rent, but Marion refused the offer immediately. She would _not _depend on anyone.

She pushed open the oak doors leading out to the academic lawn and, breathing in the scent of springtime, slowed her pace a bit. April had always been her favorite month of the year, and not just because it was the month of her birth; all the new life teeming about, waking from the slumber of winter, was enough to cheer anyone. Just as the baby gave a sharp kick, Marion chuckled and decided to sit awhile, at least until the little being got comfortable. It was a little more difficult than she remembered, but somehow she managed to sit on the stone wall lining the lawn.

"About ten years ago I met your father here," she mused out loud.

Talking to her child had become a regular habit; after all, she had no one else to talk to. She allowed the memories to return to her. She had once been one of those girls, walking around campus, arm in arm with a handsome man. Smiling, she watched a couple sit under the shade of a tree, hands clasped firmly together, absorbed in each other's faces. There was a time when she would look at Indy's face and never wanted to look away…

_Snap out of it, Marion_, she told herself sharply. _Those days are over. Besides…they probably don't want a creepy pregnant woman watching them while they're on a date. _

The baby had settled, so Marion carefully slid down, but as she did, she suddenly found herself face to face with an old friend. His face was older, certainly, and he had a bushy brown mustache, but all in all, it was the same lovable face that belonged to the same lovable friend—Harold Oxley.

"Ox!" she exclaimed, immediately wrapping her arms around her father's old colleague.

"Marion! I almost didn't recognize you, since when did you start looking so beautiful?"

"You always did know how to greet a girl, Ox."

She grinned and he returned her hug eagerly, but quickly pulled away in surprise.

"Marion…you're…?"

"Gonna be a mom. I know, I know…crazy, isn't it?"

She laughed it off, hoping he wouldn't ask too many questions. Oxley chuckled too, albeit awkwardly.

"So…you're working at the university? I just came back from a trip to Mexico, so I haven't been here in quite a long time."

"Well, I _was_ Professor Larkin's secretary," she began, "but these sons of bitches don't like to keep unmarried mothers-to-be, it seems. We are too goddamn scandalous, I suppose, even though we're the ones that need the money."

"Oh, Marion, I'm so sorry!" Oxley said earnestly.

After a pause, he continued. "You're unmarried, did you say?"  
"That's right, Ox. The father doesn't know, and he walked out on me before I could tell him."

Marion was surprised how hard it was to spit out those words. She had been strong and independent for nearly five months, now. How could it be this difficult still?

Oxley looked around cautiously before he stepped closer to Marion, gently putting his hands on her shoulders.

"Marion…you don't have to tell me who the father is if you don't want to. I just want to let you know that I'm not like the deans of this university. I don't care what society says is "right." I want to help you, dear, and I think I have just the thing. You didn't deserve to get fired; it was cruel and unjust."

Marion was about to protest, when Oxley continued.

"It's not charity, if that's what you think," he explained. "Marion, I'm going to England next month—I got a job teaching at Oxford and I'm hoping that'll help me fund more expeditions. Plus, it'll be nice to go home. I want you to come with me…and work as _my _secretary. In exchange I'll get you a place to live and you'll get a very good salary, if I do say so myself. Please say you will, Marion?"

She looked up to meet Oxley's gaze. The kindness and strength in his eyes and demeanor lifted Marion's spirits.

"You're not kidding, are ya, Ox?" she asked in disbelief.

Could he really be this kind to someone who was practically a stranger—the daughter of his old, deceased professor?

"Not at all!" he smiled happily. "Sounds like an excellent plan to me."

"But…what about your reputation? The university's image?" she asked, thinking of Professor Larkin.

"Well, the way I see it, I don't really care about my so called 'reputation.' My personal life is separate from my teaching and archeological skills, after all. And as far as Oxford's image goes…well, frankly, once they find out you're an American, they won't really find anything about you quite shocking."

Marion laughed, and then began to think. Could she really pack up and move again? Did she have any choice? An offer like this one would never come again. Who knew if she could find another job, or if anyone would hire an unmarried mother… And at least with Oxley, she wouldn't be so alone. Already, she found his support miraculous. When the baby was born, it would be nice to have someone she could call on. She wouldn't rely on him, of course, but it would be nice to have a friend again.

"I know it's a hard decision and it's kind of sudden…but, I did say I'm leaving in a month, so—"

Marion leapt up and kissed Oxley on the cheek, her face beaming with excitement.

"Oh, Ox! You're the best friend a girl could have! Of course I'll come with you!" she exclaimed merrily.

His face turned beat red and he nervously adjusted his glasses, laughing.

"Splendid!" he sputtered, at a loss.

"I just don't know how I'm ever gonna repay you…"

"Don't worry your head about that. Just worry about packing your things and tying up all the loose ends. I'll have a cab pick you up later this week so you can stay at a hotel until our travel documents are all squared away…"

"A hotel? Jeez, Ox, I'm alright in my apartment."

"Consider this part of your wages. The more time out of your apartment, the less rent will need to be paid. Those prices are skyrocketing now due to the Depression…"

"You think of everything. Where've you been all my life, Ox?"

Oxley chuckled.

"Around. Just around."

And, as they walked through the University of Chicago campus, laughing and planning out the near future, Oxley gazed down at Marion, taking in her glowing eyes, her never-ending smile and wondered…who would be stupid enough to walk out on her? What he'd give to always have her looking at him with such admiration. It was something he had always secretly thought of in the back of his mind since he first met Marion when she was still so young; a girl, really. But, even since then, the fire in her spirit had filled Oxley's soul with so much exuberance, he thought he might burst. Despite their strange reunion and Marion's delicate situation, he could not wait to travel to England with Marion. Who knew what the future could provide them?

As all these old feelings were reemerging in Oxley, Marion could not help but be transported back ten years ago…when she was walking through the campus, arm in arm, with another man. Angrily, she pushed the thoughts from her mind for the second time that day. After all, she was getting as far enough away as she could. Part of her was satisfied that she would be an entire ocean away from Indiana, where he could never find her. And another part…a tiny part…whispered that she really _wanted _to be found. It lamented that Oxley would sweep her far, far away from her child's father. And Marion smiled through the frustratingly uncontrollable tears that formed in her eyes, hiding her pain. Just as she always had done just as she always would.

**A/N: Thanks to all of my reviewers so far!! I've been able to upload fairly quickly, but I don't know if I'll always be so lucky! Review, please...**


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